


I'll use you as a makeshift gauge

by ohmcgee



Series: ohmcgee's mallverse [7]
Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Retail, Dumb boys being dumb, M/M, pining ahoy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-19
Updated: 2015-08-19
Packaged: 2018-04-15 15:36:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4612122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohmcgee/pseuds/ohmcgee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>When the dick from Foot Locker calls Tim a slut Roy breaks his jaw. </i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'll use you as a makeshift gauge

**Author's Note:**

> whoops, sorry I tagged this wrong. Fixed now!

“Hey,” Roy says, hopping up on the counter next to Tim’s register. A girl with a pink streak in her hair puts a Deadpool button and one with Sirius Black on it next to the messenger bag she picked out. “Those are buy three get two free, grab some more,” he says and pushes the basket of buttons at her. “Did you key Jade’s car?”

The girl gives him a funny look until she realizes he’s talking to Tim, then she goes back to playing Candy Crush on her phone while Tim rings her up. 

“Who’s Jade,” Tim says casually, scanning the My Chemical Romance buttons the girl added to the pile. 

“Yeah, that game doesn’t work on me,” Roy says, plucking a sugar skull pen out of a cup on the counter and poking Tim in the side with it. 

“That’ll be sixty-two eighteen,” Tim says, ignoring him. “I like your snakebites,” he says to the girl and Roy rolls his eyes when she turns about as pink as Tim’s lipgloss, pushes her hair out of her face and says _thanks, I like your face,_ then, mortified, grabs her bag and rushes out of the store without taking her change. 

“Life ruiner,” Roy says fondly, hopping off the counter and looking around the store, wrapping himself around Tim when he sees that it’s empty, sliding his hands into Tim’s front pockets and resting his chin on his shoulder. “Timothy.”

“Harper,” Tim counters.

“Did you?”

“Did I what?” Tim asks and Roy bites his shoulder in return. 

“You know what,” he says. 

“Whoops,” Tim says, dropping the label maker in his hands and bending at the waist, and Roy completely forgets to care about what they were talking about, digs his fingers into Tim’s skinny hips and drags him back into the storage room once Steph comes back from her break, sucks Tim off hard and messy until he comes down his throat, his fingers tight in Roy’s hair, looking down at him like he might never let him go. 

“Wait,” Tim says when Roy stands up, starts to walk off. “Let me?”

“Nah,” Roy says, grinning as he presses his thumb into the corner of Tim’s mouth. “Wouldn't wanna mess up your pretty makeup.”

 

: : :

 

Tim’s a slut. Everybody knows it, everybody jokes about it. Tim wears it like a badge of honor, like some great achievement, even has a few shirts and necklaces that proudly display the title. Steph calls him a turbo slut and he just grins, purses his shimmery pink lips at her and laughs. Jason calls him a slut and he waggles his tongue at him, makes lewd gestures until Jason goes pink in the face and takes his break early. 

When the dick from Foot Locker calls Tim a slut Roy breaks his jaw. 

“Ow,” he says as Tim fusses over him with the first aid kid, pokes at the cut on his knuckles with a q-tip dipped in something that stings. “ _Ow._ I think I did that wrong.”

Tim snorts. 

“No, really.” Roy says. “I think he’s supposed to be in more pain than I am.”

“Hit something soft with something hard, hit something hard with something soft,” Tim says like he's some kind of fucking sensei, rubbing his thumb over Roy’s knuckles. “You hit him with a closed fist.”

“Right,” Roy says. “My bad.”

They’re in the single employee bathroom in the back of the store and it’s almost too tight of a squeeze for the both of them, Roy sitting on the edge of the sink with Tim standing between his knees. Tim’s so close Roy could just tip forward a little and kiss him, is in the middle of doing just that when Tim says, “Why did you?”

Roy straightens up, flexes his fingers in and out, wincing at the soreness. He thinks one might be broken, but he’s not going to tell Tim that. He might make him go to the hospital or something stupid like that. “Why did I what?”

Tim glares at him. It’s the kind of glare that makes grown ass men apologize for being rude to Steph, the kind that has on occasion caused small children to wet their pants when they put their sticky hands on the glass case Tim had just cleaned.

“Oh,” Roy says. “You know.”

“No,” Tim says, grabbing Roy’s legs and wrapping them around him, pressing his forehead into Roy’s. “I don’t.”

“Um,” Roy says, finding it hard to concentrate with Tim’s mouth right _there_ , with all of him pressed up against Roy, smelling like the perfume from Victoria Secret Tim let Roy spray on him on their lunch. “He called you a bad word.”

“Try again,” Tim says against Roy’s temple. “You call me a slut all the time. I _am_ a slut. There’s nothing wrong with --”

“No,” Roy says stiffly, pushing Tim back just a little so he can fucking look at him, maybe somehow convey how big of a fucking deal this is to him. “Just no, okay? He doesn’t get to call you that.”

“Oh,” Tim says, wraps his fingers around Roy’s wrist and brings his knuckles up to his lips, blinks up at Roy through those thick, dark eyelashes that Steph envies so much. “Okay.”

 

: : :

 

“You don’t like me very much, do you?” Kori says with a wry twist of a smile in the corner of her mouth as she pushes the tray of shots Tim ordered over to him. 

“Why wouldn’t I like you,” Tim says, taking one and throwing it back as he stands there. Kori doesn’t miss the deflection there, pours a cocktail for someone then turns back to him. 

“I’m not sure yet,” she says, leaning over the bar on her elbows. She’s wearing a tight v-neck tank top and her tits are spilling out and Tim’s not even stealing a glance, which really just further proves her point. “But I think it might have to do with a certain redhead that went home with me last night.”

She doesn’t miss that little twitch in Tim’ jaw either.

“Barbara?” Tim asks, running his fingers around the rim of one of the shot glasses. “I’ve always wondered about her.”

Kori smirks. “You’re kind of a little shit, you know that?”

Tim smiles back at her, picks up another shot and throws it back.

“I didn’t fuck him,” Kori says. “We made tacos and watched Mean Girls and he got high and quoted Rilke and just kept saying you’d know what he was talking about.”

“Ah,” Tim says and Kori doesn’t know if the color in his cheeks is from the alcohol or something else entirely, but she’d put her money on the latter. “I don’t dislike you.”

“I know,” Kori says. “Now go get your boy wasted.”

“He’s not mine,” Tim says and Kori just rolls her eyes. 

“You’re supposed to be a genius, right?” She asks, but then a whole herd of frat boys walk up and start barking out orders to her and Tim never gets to find out what that was supposed to mean.

 

: : :

 

“When are you going to tell him?” Dick asks, dragging his finger along the ink on Roy’s collarbone. Tim’s flirting with Bart, the kid from Starbucks who samples the merchandise way more than he should. If he knocks another Pop figure off the shelf Roy’s going to fucking throw him out of the entire mall, probably. 

“Tell who?” Roy asks distractedly, too busy watching the way Tim turns Bart’s palm over in his hand, writes his number there in red sharpie. 

“No one,” Dick sighs, then after a moment, “Hey, wanna run get me a smoothie?”

“What?” Roy asks, finally tearing his gaze away from watching Tim and Bart. “Oh, yeah. Sure.”

After Dick comes back from getting his wallet and hands Roy a couple of bills to get him a smoothie, Tim comes over and drapes himself over Roy. 

“Bart invited us to his band’s first show,” Tim says, hooking his thumbs in Roy’s belt loops. “It’s on Friday.”

“Us?” Roy asks, taking Dick’s money and turning around to face Tim. “Or you?”

Tim gives him a funny look, opens his mouth to say something, but Roy just says, “Nevermind,” and grabs him by the wrist, drags him out of the store behind him. “Come on, we're going on a smoothie run.”

 

: : :

 

It’s two o’clock in the morning and Jason and Tim are the only ones still awake. Dick’s passed out in his bed because he has to open in the morning and Roy’s draped over Tim’s lap, snoring pretty loud while they watch a rerun of Charmed, still kinda stoned. 

Jason looks over and watches Tim run his fingers through Roy’s hair, watches him trace the tattoo of the constellation he once drew on Roy’s shoulder and collarbone with a green magic marker.

“He’ll never say it,” Jason says so softly Tim isn’t even sure if he’s talking to him or not. “He’s afraid it'll change everything. He’s scared that if he says it then you won’t even have this anymore.”

He wets his lips and Tim just looks at him, waiting. 

“You’re going to have to say it,” Jason tells him. “Or you’re going to have to leave him alone.”

Tim thinks about what he said for a moment, then says, “I don’t know how to do that.” 

Jason just nods like yeah, he gets that, then they’re quiet again for another couple of minutes, just the sound of Roy snoring and the infomercial that came on after Charmed went off filling the room until Jason speaks again. 

“If you hurt him,” he says. “I will fucking end you.”

Tim just nods, looks down at Roy, brushes his thumb over the scar above Roy's eyebrow that he got when they did acid that one time and tried to reenact that scene from Dirty Dancing. Tim still feels terrible for not catching him. “That’s fair.”

 

: : :

 

“So,” Roy says, sitting down on the edge of Dick’s desk in the office while Tim counts down his drawer. “Did you get Jade fired?”

“Yes,” Tim says, trying not to lose count. 

Roy opens his mouth -- closes it. Opens it again. 

“Huh,” is all he says. He waits for Tim to finish counting his drawer and put the money in the safe before he says, “Wait. _Why_ did you get her fired?”

“Because,” Tim says, moving between Roy’s legs. “You kept going in Spencer’s on your break instead of riding the carousel with me.”

“That was only one --”

“Because you went out with her instead of going with me to see Bart’s band.” 

“I don’t think he --”

“Because she’s bad for you.” Tim says. “And because I don’t like her. And just _because._ ”

“Fine,” Roy says, grinning a little. “But I’m getting Foot Locker douche fired.”

Tim smiles and slides his hands down the back of Roy’s jeans. “Okay,” he says against Roy’s ear. “If you want.”

“Yeah,” Roy smiles, kisses down the line of Tim’s throat and draws him in closer. “I want.”


End file.
